Change
by RDMerlin
Summary: Because, Merlin has changed. And Arthur has noticed. A quick drabble based on the character development of Merlin in series 5. Now turned into a series of drabbles due to request. Chapter eight-In front of a burning building, Merlin and Arthur fight one another for what they think is important. Not a reveal.
1. Change

**Just a short drabble i had to write after the Disir episode. What Guais said about 'whatever happened to that boy who walked in here all those years ago (or something like that) ', really hit home. I don't think i'm the only one missing the cheerful Merlin. As much as i love the new series, i feel like Merlin had changed, and become a lot darker, and a lot more obsessed with his destiny, which makes sense as he has already lost so much, it is like a comfort blanket to make every sacrifice seem worthwhile. I think it is an interesting devolpment, as it adds another dimension to the character, that is much more selfish and almost cowardly. Because he lacks the courage to act on his own, lacks the courage to question what the dragon says, unlike in the first series. He has also lost sight of himself, doesn't trust himself anymore. Forgets that his destiny is also to return magic to the kingdom. Forgets that last time he tried to change the future, he ended up almost causing it to happen. He is also becoming a lot more selfish, obsessed with the destiny, he lacks care for anyone apart from Arthur at times. He is more like Uther than Arthur. I expect he is wondering whether Uther was right, and magic does corrupt. And i feel sorry for Arthur. The first time he is really starting to rely on Merlin, to appreciate him, he is getting shot down. I think it's about time he confronted Merlin about the new change in attitude. Let's hope that the negative changes in Merlin's character doesn't become his Hamartia.  
**

* * *

Arthur watched Merlin. He scrunched his face up, realizing how creepy that sounded. Rather, he observed his servant with concern. The man was a riddle. He had said that before, and it was still true. Arthur had never been good with riddles.

Ever since they had returned from the fortress of Ismere, Merlin had been acting strange. Arthur had hoped it would turn out to be nothing, but as more days went by and his servant's demeanour failed to change, he grew worried. Merlin was isolating himself. Locking everyone out. Locking Arthur out. He chewed his lip thoughtfully. Merlin was very good at hiding the source of his negativity. He remembered that he had comforted Merlin before, but never once had he discovered the cause of his servant's sorrow.

It irritated him that Merlin was so good at reading him, and forcing him to open up, yet failed to return the favour. It felt weird. Their roles had reversed, and he was forced to reach out to Merlin, although he was quickly learning he wasn't good at it. He wondered if Merlin even noticed. All those comments about Merlin's pessimistic nature had failed to express their true meaning. Or maybe he was aware of the meaning, but just choose to ignore it knowing that Arthur wouldn't probe any further.

Merlin was staring out of the window, chores forgotten. He thought back to a time when he would have scolded a servant for failing to complete their duty, but times had changed. Somehow Merlin, the disrespectful idiot, had become a loyal, and wise friend. And somehow, cheerful and friendly Merlin had become cold and distant Merlin. He felt something shift inside of him. Something he couldn't identify. A form of nostalgia, mixed with unknown regret, and fear, and worry. And he was confused.

He felt as if he had been swept away by some ferocious wave, and dragged deep down, into murky waters. It was like he was drowning, but still trying to fight. Being pounded by an army of waves, the world swirling around him. And then he was washed up, onto an unknown island, the land he had known so far away, never to be seen again.

He could see Merlin's reflection in the window. Wearing that same look that was beginning to haunt Arthur's mind. Ever since the Disir, Arthur had begun to lose hope of ever seeing the cheerful Merlin that he had grown to love. Even in the reflection, he could see the guilt, burning in his servant's eyes. He could see fear, dread, shame, regret and deep down, he could see a dark rage beginning to form. Merlin was shaking, ever so slightly. It was as if all those emotions and feelings, were fighting against each other, threatening to explode.

He desperately wanting to ask Merlin what was wrong, but every time he tried, he either lost his confidence or he was shot down. He knew that he was losing his friend. And he didn't know why.

And it was tearing him apart.


	2. Growing up

**Okay, well someone asked me to continue this, and seeing as it was so popular, and i had this idea come to me, i decided why not? The future of this story is up to you and what you wants. I don't mind doing various drabbles, which are related to the title, or to Merlin's personality change, or do you want a story with more of a plot? Completly up to you. Plus, thank you all for the lovely reviews, and favourting. I can't remember who said about their brother thinking that the dragon might turn out to be a bad guy, but i totally agree with him. I said the same thing to my friend. How can something be wise and give such bad advice? Anyway, i also wanted to link this to the episode because there is something i want to write about but can't, because no character would be aware of the similiarities, but when Merlin said 'I grew up' i'm starting to think that it was meant to mimic what Morgana said in the first episode talking about how she had 'grown up'. I've kinda explored this idea further, but without linking to it directly. Anyway, hope you enjoy. THis is from Gwaine this time, because i do feel sorr for him. He doesn't really have anyone except for Merlin, and now he had lost that. And the episode's 'another's sorrow' i felt so bad for him. Anyway, enjoy. **

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Growing up was hard. Everyone knew that. It was a fact of life. Although, Gwaine had always assumed that once someone reached adulthood, they would escape the hardship of growing up. That frustrating time of life when some regarded you as nothing more than a child, while you perceived yourself to be an adult. Yet, he was beginning to learn, that there was more than one way to grow up.

When he had first met Merlin, he had been a boy. Okay, so he hadn't been a child, but he had seemed young. Not quite naive, but he had a sense of innocence, that desire to help everyone, and the belief that he could. It was what Gwaine had first noticed. Well, actually, what he had first noticed was that Merlin was brave, and that he stood behind his friends (even if they were a prat.) And there had been that glint in his eyes, that excitement that spawned from danger. Gwaine knew that feeling well.

But, something had changed. In the few years he had known Merlin, he had seen glimpses of another side of him. Slowly, he had stopped thinking of Merlin as a boy, and started thinking of him as a man. He wasn't quite sure when that had happened. But, it wasn't a good thing; that much was sure. Merlin was growing up inside, and Gwaine had no idea what had triggered it.

There was something else as well. Gwaine was no fool. he knew that people changed, but not this drastically. Not without reason. He couldn't help but feel frustrated. He was losing his friend. He didn't know why, but he felt envious. He knew that part of the reason was Arthur. It was always Arthur. At first, that had been fair enough. Everyone has more than one friend. Plus, Merlin had known Arthur longer. But now...It was just Arthur.

He remembered when Merlin had been knocked out by Morgana. He had been worried. Gaius had said that he would be fine, but he knew that Merlin had been unconscious for too long. This couldn't be a simple blow to the head. Maybe it had caused more damaged. He had known people who had died from blows to the head. And it was bleeding. Who knew what internal damage it had caused? Well, Gaius did, but he hadn't thought about that at the time. He had gone to collect firewood. He had needed something to do. When he returned and saw Merlin alive, he had been overjoyed, relief flowing through him. He had gone for a hug, so pleased that his friend was okay. Then, Merlin had run off, saying that they needed to find Arthur.

It still hurt. Merlin had never rejected him like that before. Okay, so time had been of the essence, but it still hurt. A lot. It probably wouldn't have mattered much if it had just been a once off, but it wasn't. Merlin had chosen Arthur over him. Merlin had chosen Arthur over everyone, including himself. But, even their relationship was starting to become strained. Arthur had complained about Merlin's depressing attitude various times.

Something was wrong. That much was obvious. Though, he was unlikely to discover what. That was Merlin. Always hiding his problems. Sometimes, he wondered if Merlin had just presented a facade, and had given up. He didn't like this Merlin. This Merlin was dark. He no longer saw a glint of excitement in his eyes. His expression was stone and his eyes were cold. The change was scary. He wondered if this was what it had been like with Morgana. The thought scared him more.

Merlin had grown up. And it was hard.


	3. Gwaine's Choice

**Well, i've decided that i'm going to turn this into a series of drabbles based on the title. This one is dealing with the major change that would come with a magic reveal. Enjoy.**

He didn't know how he had managed to get attacked...again. Sometimes he wondered if he just attracted danger. It was like him and Arthur had a target painted on their backs. He gritted his teeth, narrowly avoiding the edge of the sword, as he glanced towards the clearing where he knew Arthur and the rest of the knights-apart from Gwaine-were. Hopefully they weren't under attack too. It seemed unlikely, as this was just your average group of bandits, not a vicious assault from a well organised army. Still, he would feel a bit better if Arthur was within eyesight.

He snapped back to the present, when he was roughly shoved out of the path of a swinging axe. He stumbled, mumbling a thanks to Gwaine as he finished the man off with a slice of his sword. He was thankful for Gwaine, but had the knight not been here, he could have finished off the bandits with a few words. Still, it was hardly an uncommon dilemma for him.

He wondered how long it would be until Arthur started to wonder what was taking them so long. After all, they had only gone to collect mushrooms for their lunch, seeing as they had yet to catch a single animal to eat. Well, he had gone to collect mushrooms. Gwaine had come to eat the mushrooms before the others had a chance, under the ruse of 'making sure Merlin didn't get in trouble'. It was almost ironic.

Gwaine threw him a sword, as he disarmed yet another bandit. He gripped it tightly, and swung it wildly at a nearby bandit. They were making short work of their attackers. Only a couple of bandits remained. He was pretty sure that Gwaine could deal with them. Almost as if to contradict him, one of the bandits crashed into Gwaine, knocking him to the ground. The other lifted his sword for the final blow. He was too far away to do anything.

It came as instinct. As soon as he realized that magic was his only option, it was exploding outwards, throwing the bandit against a tree. The other turned towards him, a mixture of anger and shock on his face. His eyes flashed gold. He held out a hand, and the man let out a cry, and collapsed to the ground. Gwaine was staring at him, his eyes wide. He opened his mouth to say something, but his throat was too dry.

A swoosh of air from behind alerted him to an incoming attack, that he had no chance to avoid. He cried out, the metal tearing into his skin, and crushing his ribs. He crumpled, already feeling the warm liquid flowing down his torso. Through the pain, he saw a glint of metal, his body tensed, preparing for the inevitable strike. The strike never came.

Gwaine towered over him, sword glistening with fresh blood. The bandit lay dead at his feet. He tried to focus his gaze on Gwaine, but it was blurring, and black dots danced at the edge. He wondered what he was thinking. He knew. Gwaine knew about his magic. Was that good? He was still alive at least. Gwaine had saved him. He couldn't think straight. Couldn't comprehend what anything meant.

He jolted, wondering when he had passed out. His neckerchief was gone. He frowned, struggling to lift himself up. A hand on his chest pushed him back. He groaned. Gwaine was knelt beside him. He glanced at his side, seeing that Gwaine was attempting to use his neckerchief as a makeshift bandage.

"That won't work you know" He commented, his voice surprisingly hoarse. Gwaine paused, hesitating.

"It will help stop the bleeding until we can get help" Merlin wondered who he was trying to reassure. He hissed as Gwaine applied more force to the 'bandage'. He supposed that Gwaine was right. Stopping the bleeding probably was the most vital thing, although he doubted his neckerchief was long enough, let alone thick enough to stop the bleeding. Although what he was more concerned about was the tiny fibres getting into the wound. They were hardly going to be sterile, and it could lead to infection.

"I didn't think you would want to help me" He mumbled after a moment. Gwaine stopped, slowly allowing his eyes to travel upwards, to meet Merlin's gaze. "I thought you would be angry" He felt compelled to add, as if to explain what they both understood. Gwaine did not reply, although his expression hardened, and he returned to tending to Merlin's wound.

"Get up" Gwaine commanded, after a few moments of silence. When he did not respond, he felt himself being lifted. He stumbled a bit, his feet unsteady. Gwaine caught him, allowing Merlin to lean into him for support. "We have to get back to the others" Gwaine explained.

The journey was agonisingly slow. His body failed to cooperate, and with each step, his vision was filled with more of the annoying black dots. Although Gwaine was doing his best to support him, and protect his wound, he could feel it been stretched with each slight movement, aggravating the injury further. He didn't need to look to know that his neckerchief would be drenched in blood. Shame, he liked that neckerchief.

"Wake up" Gwaine shook him. He blinked, unaware that he had been falling asleep. Although now he thought about it, there was an awful lot of black dots surrounding him and the blackness at the edge of his vision did seem welcoming. He started to drift; the logically part of him telling him to listen to Gwaine was pushed aside.

He felt himself being shaken again, although it was much more frantic. Someone was calling his name. The person sounded panicked. He felt fingers pressing into his neck. They were removed with a slight sigh, and he felt himself being lifted, his weight completely leaving the ground. It was like floating.

"What happened!?" A loud voice exclaimed. Even in this state, he could recognise it as Arthur. He started to return to his senses, although his eyes did not open. What would happen now? Was this how Arthur would discover his secret? There was silence, for a very long moment.

"He saved my life" Gwaine replied, and with that Merlin allowed himself to fully succumb to unconsciousness.

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**Probably not my best work, but got the idea on the bus. Please read and review, and you can suggest drabble ideas if you want (although no official promises) I heard that apparently Gwaine will be the next one to find out about Merlin's magic, and i hope that is the case. If Gwaine knew, it would be amazing, and we could finally have a reason for more Merlin/Gwaine bromance, that is seriously lacking. **


	4. Punishment

**Yeah, i had this idea for a while, but it took me a while to turn it into words. I tried, but my computer crashed, and i lost all the work, which was annoying. Anyway, here you go. This one is a bit more cheerful tha the last few. **

Rian crouched, his body cloaked by the shadows of the forest. He watched the path with eagle eyes, awaiting the arrival of the king and his manservant. His task was a strange one, but who was he to question the gods? He should feel honoured that they had chosen him. Given him this sacred duty.

He tensed as he heard voices in the near distance. He held his breath as the horses passed by, close enough for him to reach out and touch them. He winced as he heard the sound of laughter, but quickly composed himself. They had chosen their fate.

He whispered a simple enchantment, his eyes flashing gold. He released a breath of air, as the two men continued on their journey, oblivious to the danger they were in. He turned his back on them. They were young. They had done nothing to harm him. Although the king still prosecuted his people, the servant was kin. Still, the gods knew what they were doing.

He started to walk away, knowing the deed was done. He was suddenly aware of how cold it was. The forest was unusually quiet, as if it understood what this moment meant. This was the end of what could have been a great destiny. He hesitated, glancing back, wondering if this was the right thing to do. Then, he heard the cry of fear, and the pounding of hooves. There was no going back now.

* * *

Arthur trotted at a gentle pace. He had a smile on his face, that had been absent for weeks. He was reluctant to admit that it was Merlin being in good spirits that lifted his mood. But it was. He had been worried about his servant for a while. He still was. Although the banter was going strong, there was still a certain harshness to Merlin's tone. And Arthur could see a burning fire of repressed emotion in his eyes.

Still, for the moment, he could almost pretend that it was like the old days. When life hadn't been so difficult. His smile faltered, and he turned his gaze to the path. He only looked back when he heard a rather panicky sounding neigh from his servant's horse. He frowned, noticing that Merlin's previous careful look had shifted once more into the cold, serious mask that was much more common nowadays.

He was just about to make a mocking comment, to lighten the mood, when the horse reared violently, almost throwing Merlin. It was a wonder the servant managed to remain mounted. Merlin was often good at controlling animals, and this was a well trained steed. What could have startled it? The horse reared again, neighing loudly. Merlin yanked back on the reins, and rubbed soothing circles on the creature's back but it seemed to have no effect. Arthur was about to dismount and give a helping hand, when the creature bolted.

For a moment, Arthur did not react, frozen in place. Then, the reality of the situation dawned on him, and he pressed his feet into his horse's ribs, urging it forward. The wind whistled past him, as his surroundings blurred into the background. He was focused merely on catching up to Merlin. It wasn't until he realised what path the horse was taking that a new sense of urgency spurred him on.

He called a warning to his servant, but whether Merlin heard him or not was another matter. Merlin seemed to be doing everything in his power to try and slow the horse, but still the horse would not stop. His heart was pounding in his chest, as his panic threatened to take hold. The forest terrain changed into a rocky surface, and he realised he had no chance of catching up to Merlin in time. He still did not slow.

Looking back, a part of him wished he had. Then he would not have had the memory of the incident etched into his mind for all eternity. The horse reached the edge of the cliff, and for a fraction of a second, Arthur believed it would stop, and everything would be fine. But it wasn't. The horse continued in its blind panic. He yelled Merlin's name, as he saw the horse tumble over the edge, limbs flailing, taking his manservant with it.

He leapt from his own horse, ignoring the pain that ignited in his knees from the poorly executed jump. He sprinted to the edge, stopping only to see the splash where Merlin would have landed. He dived, determined to save his servant. He wasn't sure if Merlin could swim. Even if he could, a fall from this height might be enough to knock someone out, and then there were the rocks that waited in the murky water, as sharp as fangs.

He was emerged in the water, momentarily winded from the fall. He had missed the rocks by mere inches. He blinked his eyes stinging from the salty water. He scanned the water, looking for his friend. He thought he saw movement to his right, and propelled himself towards it. The tiny spark of hope was smothered when he failed to find Merlin.

His lungs were burning, and he reluctantly swam to the surface, taking a breath of air. He looked around him once more, praying he would find Merlin soon. Then, in the corner of his eye, he saw a murky cloud of red liquid that could only be one thing. Ignoring the burning sensation in his eyes, he dived towards it.

He felt a tiny bit of hope return when he discovered the origin of the blood belonged to the limp body of the horse, rather than to his servant. The hope vanished when he saw Merlin. He pulled his friend to the surface in an instance, and headed for the shore. He dreaded to think what would happen if he was too late. He couldn't be. This was Merlin, nothing like that could happen to Merlin.

He reached the shore faster than he thought possible, dragging the unconscious body of his servant with him. He laid him down on the ground, checking for a pulse immediately, knowing he had to find one. He did. Only, it was too light, too infrequent. He kept his fingers pressed against Merlin's neck, hoping for some change. Almost as if too mock him, a change did come. Only, it wasn't the change he had been hoping for. The pulse stopped.

"Merlin..." He choked, noticing how weak his voice sounded. He was transported back in time, holding his father's dying body, desperately calling for help. Only no help was coming now. And Merlin was already gone. How? How can this happen? They had been hunting...how did this happen?

It was an accident. His brow furrowed, and he held down a cry of anguish. An accident. It was wrong. If Merlin was going to go, it would either be as an old man, or in a noble battle. At the very least, it would be some form of sacrifice for the greater good. Not an accident. Not a freak occurrence. This was Merlin. His death should not be so simple. There should be someone to blame.

He stared at the body. He watched the chest, waiting for it to rise and fall. For it to turn out that Merlin was just sleeping. That would never be the case. Merlin was gone. Merlin was gone...

He could hold it back no more. Arthur sat and cried.

* * *

Gaius sighed, staring at the pale and incredible still body. There was nothing he could do. The blood had been washed off the body, and it was being prepared for burial. In the morning, the body would be in a tomb. It would rot; the skin would turn to mush. Bones would penetrate the remaining skin, the rest hanging off in lumps, desperately clinging to what used to be a face, but would be unrecognisable. Perhaps insects would start to feast on the body. The smell would be intolerable. Eventually, the bones would be all that was left. And in time, even those would turn to dust.

There had already been so many other funerals. Gwaine had been cut down just days before. It was his own fault really. The knight had gone into a part of the forest that was crawling with bandits, and he had gone alone. Everyone knew why he had gone. The grief had gotten to him, turning him blind with rage. Still, he had been given a hero's funeral. Merlin would be glad.

He stared at the wound, aware that if Merlin had been here, he could have healed it. But alas, Merlin was gone, and his destiny was over. The body of Arthur was the final proof. The grief had been bad two weeks ago, when Merlin had met his end, but without the warlock saving Camelot, things had slowly started getting worse. No one would know that it had been the death of a servant to change the fate of Albion.

He remembered the disir, and now, seeing the body of the king lying in front of him, he understood what their punishment had been. The horse had bolted for a reason. And now, Merlin was dead, and so was his destiny.

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**Yeah, you know how i said this was more cheerful than the last? I lied. **

**I don't think i need to tell you how this drabble relates to the idea of change, because it is fairly obvious. In case your wondering, i was inspired from when Merlin said 'there is a difference between destiny and fate.' Originally Merlin wasn't going to die. It was based on a day dream that i had on my school bus, but i couldn't think of a beliavable way to get them to fall off a cliff into the sea. So i had to think of a way around that problem, and then i thought, what if the disir had something to do with it. Because i got the sense that they were judging Arthur and Merlin, so it makes sense that the would enact their revenge on Merlin, as the death of Merlin will lead to the death of Arthur, and the fall of Camelot.  
**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Please review, constructive critism is welcome, as if flattery.  
**


	5. Have you heard what they say?

**Well, seeing as my last chapter was kinda depressing (sorry hehe) i decided that i should do something a bit more cheerful this time. In fairness, i forgot i was meant to link it to the title 'change'...oops. Okay, how about it links because someone actually confronts Arthur about saying Merlin's name while unconscious for a change. Yes, that's good enough. Also, a mate of mine suggested i have something to do with Arthur waking up and just being able to remember the word 'Merlin'. The story is different, but the idea came from that prompt.**

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Arthur blinked, his eyes opening ever so slightly, and closing again when the sudden appearance of sunlight caused his eyes to sizzle. He groaned, turning onto his side.

"So you're finally awake," He froze, hearing an unfamiliar voice. He pushed himself into a seating position, in order to see the source of the voice. There was a young man sitting there, watching him with a strange expression, long, brown hair blowing in the faint wind. He looked slightly ragged, but in a slightly handsome way. There was a slight upturn of his mouth, and softness to his eyes that made him want to trust the man.

"Who are you?" He asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Lucan" The man replied with a shrug, the small detail clearly not concerning him.

"I'm..."

"Arthur Pendragon, yes I know" Lucan replied, a lopsided grin on his face. Arthur frowned, wondering whether that was a good sign or not. Then Lucan held up a scroll of parchment that was easily recognisable as the royal seal of the house of Pendragon. He then noticed that Lucan held his satchel in his hand, and was searching through it, like a curious child. Arthur snatched his satchel out of the man's hand, checking to make sure that everything of importance was still in place. He was relieved when it appeared that Lucan hadn't stolen anything.

Satisfied that Lucan did not appear to be a threat, he decided to observe his surroundings, trying to figure out how he had ended up lying unconscious, with a strange man watching him. It took a few moments for the information to dawn on him. He had been thrown from his horse, and had hit his head. His horse didn't appear to be nearby, so it must have run off. That was annoying. He knew the others weren't far. He had gone out with the knights (and Merlin of course, but he didn't count) for a patrol and they had decided to split up, in order to make the time go quicker. He wondered how long he had been gone.

"So..." Lucan started, dragging the word out. The corners of his mouth were twitching with amusement. "Who's Merlin?"

"Huh?" The question took Arthur by surprised, and he found himself slightly worried that Lucan might be able to read his thoughts.

"You kept saying his name in your sleep"

"He's just my servant" He mumbled, confused by the fact that he apparently thought about his manservant while unconscious. Lucan smiled, chewing his lips as if trying to withhold whatever it was that he found so amusing. Arthur tensed, noticing the glint of mischief that appeared in the man's eyes that seemed so familiar.

"Oh" The word was laced with mocking humour, and it took a moment for the full meaning to sink in. Arthur felt slightly sick.  
"I'm married!" He exclaimed, outraged that a man he didn't even know what come to that conclusion. "And I'm a man" He added a little more sheepishly.

"Okay, okay" Lucan said, his smile widening. "It's just...well, you know" Arthur didn't know. He didn't want to know.

"Know what?" yet still he asked.

"Well, what they say. You are after all a royal"

"Who's they!? And what do they say!?" Arthur was starting to get worried, and annoyed. This was the point in the conversation when he would usually throw something at Merlin; unfortunately his servant was absent.

"Well, everyone sire" Lucan replied, voice sounding too innocent. "Being a member of royalty is a lot of hard work, and that tends to lead to...hmm, let's say 'frustration', and when they can't release that through...normal methods, due to the risk of an illegitimate heir...well, what other choice do they have?"

Arthur was silent. Was that really what the whole of Camelot thought of him? That was...disgusting. Sick. Wrong. Words couldn't describe how he felt. He had an image that he desperately needed to get out of his head. He would never look at Merlin in the same way again.

Lucan was on the verge of laughing, which was beyond irritating. He made an animal like sound in his throat, and hauled himself to his feet, intent of leaving Lucan behind. It seemed like Lucan had other ideas. He turned to him, raising an eyebrow in question.

"I'm on my way to Camelot anyway, so I might as well come with you" Lucan explained, a grin still on his face. Arthur shrugged, lacking the energy to tell him to leave. He was going to see if he could find the others before returning to Camelot anyway. He started walking, trying to keep ahead of Lucan, who was taking a swig of his flask. "Thirsty?" Lucan asked, handing him the flask. Arthur was thirsty, and took it without complaint, surprised when he tasted the sharp and bitter taste of moonshine.

"It's not even midday!" He exclaimed, thrusting the flask back into Lucan's hand, resisting the urge to gag. He had never liked moonshine that much, far too bitter. He would always go for mead. But never so early in the day. He would leave the daytime drinking to Merlin.

"Arthur!" He heard his name, and the sound of hooves, and turned in surprise to see Merlin, Percival, Leon and Gwaine heading towards him.

"Is that Merlin?" Lucan asked, being able to distinguish the servant in the group from the clothes.

"Shut up" He growled, taking a step towards his friends.

"Lucan!" He did a double take when Gwaine not only recognised Lucan, but also seemed pleased to see him.

"You know him!?" He questioned, ignoring the way his voice rose in pitch.  
"Of course" Gwaine responded. Lucan gave a small chuckle next to him. "He's my cousin, we grew up together"

And suddenly, everything made sense.

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**Hopefully that was okay, because comedy is not my strong point, and this was done in a bit of a rush. Please read and review, and it's okay if it's negative, because i need to improve my comedy writing.  
**

**Also, i should also point out that the genre, and the characters of this story changes depending on the most recent chapter.  
**


	6. Get out

**This scene obviously takes place after a magic reveal which Arthur clearly did not take too well. The general idea is that Merlin was discovered, but there is still a threat to Camelot, and Merlin is helping Gwaine, when Arthur finds them. Anyway, please review, because i didn't get that many reviews for the last humourous chapter, so maybe an angst one will increase them. Anyway, enjoy.**

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The trio stared at each other, silence descending upon them. Gwaine felt his hand reach for his sword, although he wasn't sure whose side he was supposed to be on. He was loyal to Arthur. But he was loyal to Merlin. The warlock in question had turned to face Arthur, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wits that Gwaine was not privy to.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur questioned his voice devoid of emotion. It wasn't Arthur's voice. It was too cold. Gwaine felt the hair on the back of his necks raise staring at the king. If he didn't know better he would say that the king was possessed.

"I have every right to be here" Merlin replied, matching the king's tone. They all knew what Merlin said was not true. Although he had not been officially banished, it was widely understood that the warlock was in exile.

"I should run you through where you stand" Arthur growled, wielding his sword. Gwaine mirrored the action, stepping in front of Merlin protectively. Arthur fixed his gaze on him, which Gwaine returned without hesitation. No one was hurting his friend. Not even the king. But Merlin pushed past Gwaine and stood in front of Arthur, arms outstretched. Gwaine wondered if he was about to attack Arthur.

"Then do it" Merlin replied, his eyes shimmering, although not with magic. Arthur's face changed suddenly. For a brief moment he was lost, broken. He was the man who had been betrayed. The man who had lost a friend. Then the moment was gone and Arthur's expression morphed into one of anger.

"Get out" He growled, taking a threatening step towards Merlin. Gwaine made to stand beside his friend, but a look from Merlin stop him. He hesitated, but nodded, and Merlin returned his gaze to Arthur.

"Understand this Arthur" Merlin started, closing the gap between them. "I have never betrayed you, or Camelot. _Never. _Everything I have ever done has been for you. For you and for the future of Camelot. Even now, I would lay down my life for you"

Merlin stopped, staring into Arthur's eyes. Gwaine could see that the king's eyes were beginning to water. He wondered if Merlin was aware of this. Then, Merlin pushed past Arthur, and exited the small room, escaping into the night.


	7. The way it has to be

**Well, i haven't updated in a while. I didn't have any good ideas, and didn't want to write somthing pointless. Was going to attempt another death fic, but this happened instead. Slightly more cheerful. Or more depressing depending on how you look at it. Also, i have been writing another story and fictionpress, that i would love for some of you to read. It doesn't have a lot of views, even though i think it is the best thing i have ever written (that's not a big ego, because i'm comparing it with myself haha) It called the Game, and it's set in medieval times, although it isn't based on anything historical. Basically deals with the issues of revenge after a successful rebellion, and blackmail, murder, adultery (perhaps), an extremly twistd love/hate relationship, and loads of characters who are designed to be evil and manipulative, although likable. www. fictionpress s/3078864/1/ The-Game. Summary: After a successful rebellion, the young prince is left without a father, and is stripped of his nobility. Consumed by his need for revenge, he turns to questionable methods. Meanwhile, the leader of the rebellion is hiding in the shadows, awaiting his chance to claim the throne. Sorry for shameless self-advertising XD**

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Gwaine took a deep breath; and knocked. He knew this was something he needed to do. He had seen the look on Merlin's face. He also knew that Merlin wasn't weak, yet he had treated him as such. Gone were the times of their reckless adventures; the bar fights, the drunken brawls.

"Come in," A voice from within called. He hesitated. He had expected Merlin to come to the door, after all it wasn't often someone would actually _knock _on his door. He could leave now, and Merlin would never know it was him who had knocked. But that would not be the right thing to do. After a moment, he swallowed his doubts and reluctantly entered.

"Er, Hello," He mumbled nervously, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Merlin looked up at him, seeming surprised at his tone. His eyes trailed over the various vials that rested on the table where Merlin was currently sat. There were many strange concoctions, all of different colours, unrecognisable to his untrained eyes. Merlin turned his gaze back to whatever work he was doing, engrossed in some strange book. He knew that in a moment Merlin was about to tell him that he was too busy to talk, and Gwaine would never work up for the courage to repeat what he was about to say.

"I just, er, wanting to say, well you know...sorry" He spluttered, the words flowing a lot more easier than he had anticipated. Merlin froze, and slowly turned towards Gwaine. He couldn't figure out what Merlin was feeling.

"For what?" Merlin asked after a moment, sounding irritatingly nonchalant.

"You know what," He retorted. "That incidence the other day, when we wouldn't let you leave undefended"

"Oh...that" Merlin replied after a moment. "Well, thanks" He added, but Gwaine was not convinced. Apparently saying sorry was not good enough. He sighed.

"Look, we didn't mean to insult your pride, we were just looking out for you. You are after all only a servant..."

"And you're a knight. Yeah, I know," Merlin snapped, surprising Gwaine. He hadn't meant anything by that comment.

"Does that bother you?" He asked, taking a step forward. He was aware of his heart beat. He had only come to Camelot for Merlin, and by extension Arthur. He had never cared about being a knight. He had never let it define him. Or, at least he hoped it hadn't.

"Of course it bothers me!" Merlin snapped the anger in his voice acting like a whip. Their eyes met, and neither said anything for a moment. Merlin's expression suddenly softened, and he continued. "I've lost a lot of friends, Gwaine..." he trailed off.

"I'm still your friend," He corrected instantly, desperately wanting to embrace Merlin in a hug. Anything to cheer him up. Merlin stared at him, his eyes scanning Gwaine.

"That's not what I meant," Merlin whispered. "We are friends...but not like before. We both know that."

"That's not because of me!" He snapped, feeling anger course through his body. "It's you. You're always in a bad mood; you never laugh. You don't care about anyone any more. At least, not like you used to. You're tense all the time. You're obsessed; with what I am not sure. And don't act like I'm the one who ruined our friendship. It is always you and Arthur. You've always preferred Arthur, haven't you!? You don't have the same status, yet you're still friends with him." His words were racing ahead of his mind, all common sense having deserted him. He was panting, his chest heaving when he finally stopped speaking. His words echoed in his mind, and he became aware of the tears that were threatening to spill. He swallowed, daring a glance at Merlin's face.

His heart broke. He couldn't help it. Merlin was staring at him; an intense emotion in his eyes. Merlin was angry, furious; but he did not seem upset.

Gwaine spun on his heel and left, feeling the friendship they had once shared disintegrate before him.

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**Also, if you do read my other story (the Game) be aware that you can log in with your fanfiction account, because the sites are related. Furthermore, at the risk of insulting your intelligence, you do need to remove the spaces for the link to work (it's an anti-spam thing). Anyway, hope you enjoyed this fic, please review, and i'm open to any suggestions about what else to write.**


	8. A fierce and flaming death

**I've had this idea for years, and it kept coming back so i had no choice but to write it down. I have another idea for the next chapter to, so it won't be long before i update. Also, anyone who is reading 'the game', i will update that as soon as i get my laptop back from my brother, because it has the next chapter on there. Anyway, enjoy, and please tell me what you think :)**

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Arthur put on a burst of speed, desperately trying to catch up to his servant. He had never seen Merlin run so fast. However, Arthur was still faster, and he managed to outrun Merlin, blocking his path. Merlin skidded to a halt. They were both panting.

"Arthur," Merlin growled, an almost feral look in his eyes. If Arthur didn't already know that his servant was useless, he would have been frightened by that look. He held his ground, trying to ignore the glistening water droplets that were escaping down Merlin's cheek.

They stood, staring at each other for what felt like years but could only have been a matter of seconds. He was faintly aware of the dim orange glow behind him, warming his back. There was nothing that could be done for those people now. To try and save them would be suicidal. Yet Merlin was ignoring that simple fact. Arthur couldn't blame him. If their roles had been reversed, he probably would have done the exact same thing.

There was a sickening familiar screech of fear and pain which caused Merlin to break eye contact. Arthur tensed, knowing there was only one person on Merlin's mind. Before the scream ended, Merlin bolted towards the burning building. Arthur moved instantly, yanking Merlin backwards. Arthur must have underestimated his own strength, because his servant ended up sprawled on the floor, momentarily stunned. He was about to offer his hand, when Merlin regained himself, and lunged towards Arthur.

Arthur rolled with the impact, making sure to keep a tight grip on his servant, who was already struggling to escape from his grip. Merlin twisted, managing to get to his feet. Arthur jumped to his feet immediately, and once more yanked Merlin backwards, away from the building. This time Merlin stumbled, but managed to remain standing. For a brief moment he thought he saw a look of clarity cross Merlin's crazed expression, but as a fist whirled towards him, he knew he had imagined it. He was surprised at the strength at which Merlin's fist connected with his face, slicing his lip open, and leaving his cheekbone stinging. In his shock, Merlin managed to run past him. Arthur called out his name, as he leapt towards his servant. As Merlin fell to the floor, Arthur pushed his weight onto him, pinning him to the ground.

Merlin clawed at him, trying to get free, but it was no use. Arthur was not about to let him run to his death, no matter what the circumstances.

"Arthur, please…" Merlin begged, a single tear rolling down his cheek. Arthur swallowed, refusing to look Merlin in the eyes. Merlin began to struggle again, choking on his own sobs. Arthur held him down.

There was a loud creaking noise, that forced the both of them to glance towards the building. Almost in slow motion, the building's foundation fell away. The remaining section of the building seemed to float for a moment, before it too succumbed under gravity. Merlin released a loud cry of anguish as the building collapsed, burying all those inside. They stayed there for minutes, before Arthur finally relented, and helped Merlin to his feet.

"I'm sorry," He said, unable to say anything more. A dark cloud of guilt hung over his head, and he knew it would remain there for the rest of his mortal life. Merlin stared at him. Tears were flowing freely, and his body was shaking violently.

"My mother…" Merlin choked, unable to continue his sentence. Arthur felt his heart break. He remembered the death of his father. He knew Merlin had been close to his mother. He had simply adored her. Arthur probably would have been the same if Hunith had been his mother. Merlin fell to his knees, the grief of his mother's death overcoming him. Arthur hesitated, before taking a seat next to Merlin, and pulling his servant into a tight embrace. For a moment Merlin tensed, and Arthur was terribly frightened that Merlin would choose to blame Arthur for the death of his mother, but then Merlin relaxed into him. Arthur felt his clothes dampening, but he did not care. They stayed like that until morning.


End file.
